A Confirmation of Sorts
by VolleyballGoddess
Summary: James is angry, and it's all Lily's fault. A fluffy oneshot and glimpse into James and Lily's pre-romantic lives, because I love seeing my OTP happy.


**A/N: So last week I spent 5 days at the Wizarding World of Harry Potter with my best friend, and after visiting Hogwarts and Honeydukes, Florean Fortescue's and Gringotts, I was so re-enamoured of the Harry Potter world, that I had to write something in its honour. Since Lily and James are the OTP of my life, this little fluff-piece spawned.**

 **If anyone wants details about my trip, which was the most magical week of my life, please feel free to PM me. Now, before I get carried away, I'll cut myself off.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or any of its characters.**

* * *

Snow was just beginning to fall on castle grounds, and the Gryffindor Quidditch team was groaning as they made their way inside. Frozen fingers numbly grasped at icy wooden broomstick handles, red noses sniffed, and low voices whispered mutinously as the six weather-beaten, frostbitten teammates piled into the warmth of the changing room.

'...Positively _barking_ , he is...'

'...It's freezing, don't know what he was thinking...'

'...Three hours!'

'...can't feel my nose anymore.'

'Oi!' a voice barked, and the entire team leaped into the air in terror, glancing around the room for the furiously glinting glasses and tousled hair of their Quidditch captain. There was no sign of him, and the Gryffindors slumped in relief for a moment before glaring at a cackling Marlene McKinnon, who was doubled over on a bench, her blonde hair stiff with frozen sweat.

'Oh Merlin,' She sighed, wiping her eyes. 'You should've seen your faces.'

'Not funny McKinnon,' Dave Acker, one of the beaters, grumbled as he stowed his bat. 'That was uncanny.'

'He's in a right mood today,' said little Craig Kinnard, a small third year as he nursed the numb hand that had been forced to snatch the snitch from the air for a full hour in the cold weather. The team mumbled in agreement.

'Well,' said Marlene, standing with a moan. 'I say we get out of here before Captain Angry-and-Misunderstood comes back in and decides we haven't suffered enough.' She ruffled Kinnard's mop of curly blonde hair as she walked past, her broomstick hoisted over her shoulder. The other players glanced around the room nervously, for Marlene had a point, and within minutes the changing room was devoid of any red-and-gold clad athletes.

In truth, the Gryffindor Quidditch team had no reason to be afraid of their captain walking into the locker room, because at that moment, the sixth year chaser was soaring above the Hogwarts grounds at neck-breaking speeds without the intention of landing any time soon.

James Potter was normally a genial fellow, with a clever joke and pleasant smile always on hand. He was rarely upset, and hardly ever angry. Part of his charm (besides his dashing good looks and remarkable Quidditch skills, as he himself will claim) lay in his ability to spread his cheerfulness everywhere. While he was an intense Quidditch captain, he seldom took his emotions out onto the pitch.

James finished circling around the grounds for the third time, and dove down towards the Quidditch pitch. He pulled up from the dive a split second before hitting the ground, hopping off the broom smoothly, a superb display of flying ability that he surely would have crowed about had he not been in such a sour mood.

'Bloody arse,' He muttered, shouldering his broomstick.

'Maybe you should stop riding your broom for so long then, mate.'

James didn't jump or curse or give any impression that the voice behind him was unexpected- indeed, he had rather been prepared for the presence of his best friend, Sirius Black. Nevertheless, prepared did not mean welcome.

'Maybe you should mind your own business,' he snapped, not bothering to turn around. Sirius tutted, and James could just visualise the glint in his eyes as he shook his head of sleek black hair.

'Not your best one, Prongs. I expect more wit from you.'

James remained tense for two, three seconds, then-

'Ugh.' His shoulders slumped. 'I know. That was pathetic.'

He turned and faced his friend, a rueful look on his face. Sirius was indeed grinning at him, the expected glint shining in his grey eyes. James grinned back, despite himself, but then it dropped to an irritated frown.

Sirius studied him carefully. 'What's up mate? McKinnon says you were a prat all practice.'

James rolled his eyes, but it didn't have his usual enthusiasm behind it. 'Nothing. It's fine.'

The slight colour in his cheeks and the white knuckles around his broomstick told Sirius it was a lie, but after five and a half years of friendship, Sirius knew what buttons to push and when to push them, so he simply slapped James' back with a sigh. 'Right then. Let's go inside before the Gryffindor team needs a new Chaser to replace their frozen one.'

'I could play better frozen than half of the half-wits in this house,' James grumbled.

'That's the spirit.'

The two boys made their way into the castle silently, Sirius amusedly pretending he had no idea why James looked slightly murderous, and James pretending he wasn't aware that he appeared to be homicidal.

The Fat Lady greeted them at the entrance to the common room, and when James snarled out the password (' _Vera caritate_ '), she tutted at him and said, 'Now then, dear, what's got your wand in a knot?'. Sirius snorted, but at the sharp look James shot him, he simply shrugged and pushed past him through the portrait.

They entered the common room where James was relieved by a wave of warmth from the fire. He truly hadn't realised how cold he'd been, but now that he was in front of the flames, he really just wanted to change out of his cold, sweaty Quidditch gear. 'I'm gonna go up, mate,' He sighed to Sirius, who waved him away as he walked over to the corner of the room where Remus and Peter were engaged in a game of chess.

James frowned as he walked toward the staircase that led to the boys dormitories. He didn't really mean to be a prat, and he appreciated his mates' concern. But he was just about done with the rubbish that was feelings, and unrequited affection, and redheads with green eyes and stone hearts. He felt as though, after two years of secretly pining and not-so-secretly wooing one Lily Evans, he deserved an evening to let his frustrations get the better of him. Merlin knows he hadn't done so before (with the exception of Snivellus, of course, but he would have taken the mickey out of the git no matter what, so James didn't count him).

James wearily rubbed his eyes, wishing, not for the first time that evening, that he had chosen a more approachable young witch upon which to have bestowed his affections. Dratted redheads. His father always said the Potter men had a weakness for them.

The young Gryffindor was yanked out of his own thoughts when he walked smack into someone, forcing his hand to drop from his distressed face. 'Sorry, I- oh for fuck's sake.' The hand shot to his hair. Speak of the devil, and the unfairly beautiful and talented devil will come.

Said devil raised an eyebrow at his language and frowned. 'Lovely to see you too, Potter.' James took in the bottle-green sweater that hugged every curve in exactly the right places, the carefully pinned back hair with strands falling out stylishly, and lastly, the vibrant green eyes that were locked on his very dirty, very tired self. He swallowed.

'Evans.' He breathed out, intending to sound curt (he was angry, dammit), but instead coming off as thoroughly awed. He wanted to slap himself.

The last four months had been possibly the best of his educational career, simply because he and Lily Evans had moved past 'reluctant acquaintances'- on her part, of course- to good friends. The wizarding war taking place outside the castle grounds had taken it's toll on many of the school's students, and while some of them hadn't handled it very well (i.e. poor Matilda Midgen, who had appeared in the hospital wing one October morning with purple warts on her face where she had tried to transfigure herself into a fainting couch), others like James, had changed for the better. In the face of dark times, James Potter had become aware of his own horrid behaviour, bullying committed for the sake of a few laughs and the sort, and realised such immature antics had no place during a war. He kept his sense of humour, of course, but his other qualities, the much more redeeming ones like his kindness and loyalty and charm, quickly were noticed by other people who had previously decided he was nothing but a 'bullying toerag' (enter: Lily Evans).

He was remarkably pleased of course, that he and Lily could carry a conversation without him saying something extraordinarily stupid, and he had done his very best to suppress his affections so that Lily could only think of them as a thing of the past. However, that was not so easy, seeing as Lily continued to do horrible things to his heart like be wonderful, exist, and accept pompous Ravenclaw brats' invitations to Hogsmeade.

'Marlene said you were being a git today,' said Lily critically, eyeing him up and down. 'But I didn't realise it extended to everyone outside the Quidditch team.'

James threw the hand that was not holding his broomstick up in the air in exasperation. 'What does McKinnon _do_ , parade around the castle complaining about me to everything with a heartbeat? It was just _Quidditch practice_ , for Merlin's sake!'

Lily scoffed, glancing away and absentmindedly messing with the twigs on James' Silver Arrow. 'Of course not,' she smirked. 'She tells the ghosts about what a prat you are too.'

James raised his eyes to the ceiling. 'Are you kidding me?'

Lily giggled and James felt his mouth turn up at the sound, but _wait, no-_ he was angry at her. He quickly turned his smile into a straight face. 'Right. As lovely as this chat was, I'm dirty, and cold, and completely knackered, so I'm just-'

'Are you upset with me?'

James froze with his mouth still open in mid-sentence and stared at the girl in front of him. She seemed blatantly unapologetic, awaiting his answer. When he said nothing, she continued, not quite looking at him straight in the eyes. 'You haven't spoken to me in two days, and every time I try to talk to you, you find an excuse to leave.'

James said nothing, baffled at the direction the conversation was taking. This was possibly the first time Lily had ever expressed any sort of desire to talk to him when it didn't involve their friend group or some sort of school work. 'Erm… what?'

Lily shifted uncertainly, and for the first time James noticed the nervousness in her gaze. 'I just mean… well... ' She took a deep breath and looked him straight in the eyes. 'You seem angry. And I don't like… it. I don't like not talking to you.' She noticed the ecstatic light entering his hazel eyes and quickly added. 'You dug your way into my routine, you berk. I don't like changing my routine.'

'Am I hearing this correctly?' asked James triumphantly. 'Lily Evans misses my attention?' He took a step forward instinctively and almost laughed out loud when Lily let out a little 'eep' and took a step back.

'N-no.' She stammered. She tilted her chin up defiantly. 'I just don't like change. Or invasions to my personal space.'

James almost teased her back, the way he usually would. But at that moment, Alice Fortescue chose to walk past them as she and Frank Longbottom made their way to the portrait hole, calling out: 'Lily! You haven't told me anything about your date! I want _details-_ tell me everything when we come back, okay?'

Frank shushed her, shooting James a knowing look, but the damage was done. By the time Lily had turned back around, James had backed up, his broomstick over his shoulder, his expression closed off. Lily hesitated, unsure why his mood had suddenly changed. 'Potter-'

'I'm tired, Lily.' James said shortly. 'Long practice, even longer day. I'll see you around, yeah?' Without waiting for a response, he turned and stomped up the staircase to the boys dormitories, leaving Lily standing at the foot, confused and distressed, and disconcerted why she felt that way.

James was, to put it simply, tired. He knew he had truly no right to be upset- Lily was allowed to date whomever she wanted, no matter how he felt about her. Hell, he hadn't asked her out in the four months they'd been in school, so she had no reason to believe he still felt that way. Not that she truly had any reason to believe he had ever been serious, seeing as his entreaties had usually been spontaneous and ill thought-out (it had been much easier to deal with the inevitable rejection if he pretended he hadn't been all that earnest). But he was only human. And it hurt him that Lily expected his attention, and acted like he didn't deserve hers.

The warm shower helped ease the tension in his muscles, and thaw his Quidditch-frozen bones. He shut the water off with a distracted wave of his wand, wrapped a towel around his waist, and stepped out of the steamy bathroom. His glasses were in one hand, too fogged up to do him any good, and he was all too ready to throw himself in bed and forget the day had ever happened.

Wiping the lenses off on the front of his towel, he shoved them back on his face, turned to his bed to throw on his boxers- and let out a strangled shout. _Lily Evans_ was sitting on his bed.

'What the actual-'

'Merlin's saggy left trouser, I am so sorry-'

'-I'm _naked_ , what-'

'-I completely forgot you'd be in the shower, I just wanted to make sure you didn't run away-'

'-Evans-'

'-It absolutely, one hundred percent, did _not_ occur to me that you would be _naked.'_

They fell silent, James gripping the towel up on his hips and gaping in shock at the teenage girl on his bed, Lily blushing furiously and looking everywhere but the half naked boy in front of her.

'Not that I'm complaining, Evans,' James spoke in a forcibly calm, collected tone of voice. 'But what the bloody hell are you doing in my room.' He posed it as a statement rather than a question, which normally would have peeved Lily to no end, but at the moment Lily felt he had every right to be livid, so she merely put her head in her hands.

'You're mad at me.' She mumbled against her fingers.

James raised an eyebrow. Yes, he was, but not for the reason she thought. 'Keep those peepers behind your hands while I get dressed, okay?' Lily nodded.

She heard him bumbling around, tugging something out of his drawer while she kept her face hidden. After a moment, he said, 'You're good,' and she peeked out from behind her fingers. James had put on a pair of red and black flannel pyjama pants, but he hadn't deigned to put on a shirt, and Lily, much to her chagrin, tore her eyes away from his chest and raised her tomato-coloured face to meet his gaze.

'Well?' He crossed his arms.

'I-I don't know why you don't want to talk to me,' Lily began. 'Or what I might've done wrong. But I wanted to apologise. I like us being friends, and I don't want to go back to whatever it is we were before this year.' She scratched at his quilt and refused to look at him.

James was quiet. 'You think we'd go back?'

Lily looked at him quickly. 'I don't know. I don't think so. But I wouldn't want to risk it if we did.'

James looked at the ground. 'I don't think we would,' He admitted. 'But… I'm sorry too. I don't mean to be a prat.' He took a step forward and Lily instinctively shifted over so he had room to sit on the edge of his four poster next to her. He sat, leaning his elbows on his knees pensively. It was stupid, really, because she was there apologising for something she had no idea about, and he couldn't really tell her why it hurt because it'd be putting their newly found friendship at risk. He ran a hand through his hair before remembering she had never been crazy about that, and he dropped it, not noting the way her eyes followed its path through the thick mess.

'See...' He began, looking directly ahead as he clasped his hands together thoughtfully. 'I enjoy it too… your attention. I like us being friends. It's just hard to get used to. And sometimes I feel like...' He hesitated. How did he put this without sounding lovestruck, or like a self-entitled git?

'Like what?' She prodded. He struggled to voice his thoughts, instead making several motions with his hands. She just stared at him in amusement, and he let out a frustrated huff and threw himself back to the bed, flinging an arm over his eyes in distress. 'Forget it,' He mumbled.

'S'stupid.'

Lily stared at the plane of his bare stomach and the line of his bicep and felt her mouth go dry. 'Er... '

'I just sometimes feel like you don't really want me around.' He blurted out. He dropped his arm from his eyes and turned to look at her, still sitting on the edge of his bed and watching him, cheeks slightly rosy. 'And I get it, I was annoying and I still can be, but I'm not like I was before, you know? But you sometimes wave me off like you want me to go away, and then you go out with that arse, Owens, and-'

'Wait.' Lily cut him off and he felt his mouth snap shut. _Shit._ She shifted until she faced him and he groaned, grabbing a pillow and flinging it over his face. 'Is _that_ what this is all about? Me going out with Richard?' He didn't need to look to see the indignance appearing on her face.

He tossed the pillow off and sat up earnestly. 'No. It's just hard to remember that you don't hate me anymore, and I remember all those times you blew me off-' They both flinched, remembering the harsh words spoken between them. '- and it's taking some getting used to, that things aren't like that. Sometimes it feels like I'm back to square one, and you never want me to speak to you again.' Lily softened and he let out an internal sigh of relief that he hadn't completely butchered the conversation.

They were both silent, James trying to replay what he had just said to make sure he actually made sense. 'I didn't _hate_ you,' Lily said softly. 'But I guess I can understand what you mean. I promise I won't make you feel unwanted anymore.''

James grinned. 'Okay. And I promise I won't be a prat anymore.' He reached out and tweaked her nose and she squeaked, 'Hey!', shoving his hand away and smiling.

'You'd better not,' She joked. James noticed she still had hold of his hand. He took in her pretty hair and sweater, the light blush on her cheeks and before he could stop himself said, 'That Owens _is_ an arse though. Dunno why you kept saying no to me and you let _him_ take you to Hogsmeade.' He added the last part with a wicked grin, hoping she'd take it as a joke though most of him was serious. Her shove to his face told him he was successful.

'Prat.' She laughed. 'You're right though.' James' heart swelled for a moment before she said, 'He _is_ an arse. I was bored out of my mind by the time we got to the Three Broomsticks.'

'Ah well, love, you can always call me if you're on a bad date. I'm very good at ruining romantic situations.' And he would take particular pleasure in ruining any other boy's who asked Lily on a date. Lily laughed at his honest expression and replied, 'I'll remember that.'

They sat in companionable silence for a minute, Lily messing with his fingers absentmindedly. James felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. He mentally slapped himself.

'Well, Evans.' He broke the silence and she started. 'I am feeling a right deal better now, but I'm still exhausted, so-'

'Oh of course!' Lily suddenly realised she was still holding his hand and shoved it away from her, standing up and taking a few steps back. He immediately missed the feeling of her fingers in his. 'I'm glad we had this chat. I'm-er- sorry, about before, with the...' She waved her hands at him nervously and he smirked. 'Nakedness?' He teased.

She blushed. 'Yes, that.' She turned, pulling open the dormitory door, but before closing it behind her she peeked at him one last time. 'Well… see you tomorrow?'

James smiled at her again, but it was much softer, full of a fondness that he wasn't able to conceal no matter how hard he tried. It was an expression that made Lily feel warm all over, and the thought frightened her so much that she instantly shoved it away. 'See you tomorrow, love.'

Lily raised a corner of her mouth and shut the door softly behind her. James fell backwards, folding his hands behind his head and letting out a long, slow breath. He hadn't expected his day to end this way, not when two days earlier he had been witness to Richard Owens stopping Lily after Astronomy to ask her on this date. He had even skipped Hogsmeade today to avoid seeing them. And now he was lying in bed, after Lily Evans had come into his dormitory and told him she enjoyed being friends. She actually _valued_ their relationship.

Whilst he was beaming at the ceiling, the door opened and a low whistle reverberated throughout the room. There was the sound of running, and then a form flew into his bed, sending his sheets flying and making him bounce. His smile didn't fade.

'Someone looks pleased,' Remus observed, throwing himself onto his bed. Sirius popped up from the blankets next to him and poked the dimple on James' cheek. 'Much better than before,' Sirius confirmed.

'So the talk went well, Prongs?' Peter asked eagerly from his own four poster. 'Did you snog?'

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. 'As if Evans would ever snog this pathetic, specky little git.' James responded by shoving a pillow in his face.

'As a matter of fact, Wormtail,' James sat up dignifiedly. 'We did not snog, and even if we did, I am a gentleman and would not share that information.'

Remus sighed from his bed, behind a book he had picked up. 'Of course you are.' He peered at him from over the cover, and smiled. 'For the record, we had to physically stop Padfoot from eavesdropping with the cloak.'

'Dammit, Padfoot.' James sighed. Sirius only responded with an unapologetic grin. James pushed him off the bed.

James settled himself back on the pillows as Sirius stood indignantly and went to his own bed. 'Nah, boys. I don't think snogging Lily Evans is in my near future.' He closed his eyes and replayed the image of Lily laughing as she held his hand.

'Well that's unfortunate,' Peter frowned. 'She still doesn't like you, then?'

James, eyes still closed, smiled. He thought of Lily's gaze on him when he walked out of the shower, her twisting fingers as she apologised, her soft smile at him as she closed the door to his room.

'Well, Wormtail. I wouldn't say _that_.

* * *

 **A/N: Merlin, I love them.**

 **Harry Potter world was an absolute blast: I drank copious amounts of butterbeer, and mountains of sweets from Honeydukes, and spent a ridiculous amount of money on souvenirs, but it was all worth it.**

 **Also, I met Celestina Warbeck (who is positively fabulous, and I don't understand how Fleur can hate her music), and several working warlocks appreciated my Ravenclaw knowledge of the wizarding world and also liked my Alivan's wand (Hazel and dragon heartstring, 13 inches, unyielding). I have Post-Potter Depression, I honestly never wanted to come back home.**

 **But then again, I wasn't going home. Not really. ;)**


End file.
